


Disgusting

by AKA_Jinx



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, aka my aesthetic, lmao sorry, otherwise yeah it's just kinda meet n fuck hanahimu, some of the warnings apply kinda I just want to be safe y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKA_Jinx/pseuds/AKA_Jinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Disgusting.” The words came out of his mouth as not only an insult, but a tease and a compliment. It was a gross sight but something he couldn’t take his eyes off of. He wanted to rip it apart, spit on it, beat it ‘til death and then, frankly, fuck it. That ‘it’ was Himuro Tatsuya, Hanamiya Makoto’s current prey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disgusting

     “Disgusting.” The words came out of his mouth as not only an insult, but a tease and a compliment. It was a gross sight but something he couldn’t take his eyes off of. He wanted to rip it apart, spit on it, beat it ‘til death and then, frankly, fuck it. That ‘it’ was Himuro Tatsuya, Hanamiya Makoto’s current prey.  
     “Call me that again,” Himuro spoke, eyes barely able to remain a stable stare.  
     “As if you have the right to talk.”  
It could be called fate that they would run into each other on the street; that they were able to make up some excuse to leave the group they were with and start a conversation that lead to a small brawl in the alleyway, taking turns shoving eachother into the chained fence. It could be a natural response, such as animals in heat that their lips were rough and left sloppy hickeys on their necks, the tattered collars from each other’s greedy hands that pulled at each other. As Hanamiya stated, it could be disgusting that Himuro was reduced from his jacket and jeans to a wife beater and boxers, jeans around one ankle with the belt roughly ripped apart.  
     Using the wall to rest on, Himuro’s skin gathered bumps in the cold, his breath heavy and puffs of clouded air that flew up, past them. Hanamiya was clearly the winner of this fight but Himuro wouldn’t back down. He had managed to strip Hanamiya from his hoodie to his bare chest and got his jeans riding low on his hips.  
     “You’re a little whore, that’s what you are,” Hanamiya spit out, pulling back his arm to slam across Himuro’s already bloody mouth. It had been too long since he’d been in a fist fight, mainly from the ones in America. He missed the feeling, the energy that ran through his fingertips and the familiar feeling of pain that no longer hurt but humored him.  
     Faint trails of blood coated Hanamiya’s knuckles, callused palm running over Himuro’s face with that smirk that only meant trouble. Fingers brushed through his black locks and curled, turning his wrist and tugged on Himuro’s hair, wincing and bending down in response.  
     “And?” The smirk disappeared and rage filled his face.  
     “You’re just gonna accept that? That you’re some filthy whore who’ll fuck around? Is that the real Himuro?”  
     “Call me what you want, we both know how this will end.” There wasn’t a real point in the fighting but to rile up their arousal. Be it as rare it was, they did this as often as they could. Quick little fucks in back corners to claw and scratch each other and be gone. They would conveniently rendezvous another time with the same intentions.  
     “Fine, then, let’s get this over with.” There wasn’t much surprise to bringing his knee to Himuro’s stomach, doubling him over and shoving him on the ground, clouds of dirt bouncing back at him. “Do it yourself,” he barked, Himuro’s cold hands but hot fingertips sarcastically pulling up Hanamiya’s jeans, sitting back on his ankles and smiling.  
     “Piece of shit,” Hanamiya spat out, pressing his foot on Himuro’s crotch and digging his heel in. It was either sarcastic or serious, but a huffed out moan escaped Himuro when the pressure was applied, his smile fading for a second. “You’re sickening.”  
     “Then why bother?”  
     “I don’t have to explain anything. Hurry it up.” Himuro clicked his tongue but let out another groan but more force was pushed against him. Setting his hands on Hanamiya’s hips, turning his fingers and dragging his nails down his skin, pulling his jeans down in the process, Himuro made his way down the other’s body. Cold air didn’t affect the heated flesh, taken delicately in Himuro’s hands when Hanamiya rubbed his hips into the other’s touch.  
     “Don’t you dare get blood on it,” were Hanamiya’s words before Himuro took him in. A slick tongue, thin lips and the lingering salt of blood in his cheeks, Hanamiya occupied his mouth otherwise. Loosening his jaw and digging his nails into the sensitive flesh, hips jerked towards him involuntarily and went deeper into Himuro’s throat. Blood was drawn and gathered around his fingertips, little bloody spots around Hanamiya’s crotch, Himuro’s drawn out nose almost reaching them at the angle he was put into. Greedy, needy, horny hands pulled Himuro closer and forcefully encouraged the deepthroating, feeling every inhale and swallow and pump.  
It wasn’t equal in terms of sensitivity but to relieve Himuro of his own issues, Hanamiya continued to rub out Himuro through his sneaker. He could see the wet tip over the top of his boxers, brushing against it with care - if he hurt him, Himuro would hurt him back and not in a pleasant way. Himuro’s little moans of release echoed through Hanamiya’s whole body, letting out a large moan disguised as a sigh.  
     “You’re taking too long,” was his excuse to drag Himuro’s head closer, having him engulf him more, choking him but he was used to the harsh was of Hanamiya that he swallowed his pride - as well as Hanamiya - and continued, wet lashes heavy on his eyelids. Feeling himself come closer, Himuro did what he knew Hanamiya liked; bite lightly. Nibbling on the base he could feel the tip twitch in the back of his throat, with a quick motion Hanamiya pulled back and aimed for those sideswept bangs, his shoe giving a final stomp as they both finished, panting and mumbling out swears.  
     “I think you’ve gotten better,” maybe it was a compliment, maybe just a statement, but Himuro acknowledged it and laughed.  
     “I’ll have to shower again,” Himuro said, casually, cleaning himself off and wiping the cum out of his hair, getting dressed. Hanamiya checked his body for blood and hickeys.  
     “‘Cause you’re so disgusting,” his words carried no insult but didn’t mean any charm. Dressing himself and looking at Himuro, he found it true: he was gross. They both were but they got each other off.  
     A disgusting relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I was listening to 'Diablo' by Simon Curtis and I'm always thinking about Himuro Tatsuya and bang bang boom I got this.
> 
> [also hey makoto i'm down hmu]


End file.
